Chapter 107: Mr. Augustine, You Silly Sweet
Monica photographed Mr. Henry and quickly forwarded the picture to Pamela. Seconds later, Pamela called, her voice brimming with excitement.
“Mom, is this the old man Olive married? He looks eighty! How did Olive marry someone so old?” Pamela nearly burst out laughing.
Monica glanced at Mr. Henry inside the mansion.
“Pamela, that’s right. This is Olive’s ‘ghost’ husband. He’s old enough to be Olive’s grandfather. I’m sure Elvis Augustine will kick Olive out once he sees this.”
“Mom, you’re amazing! You’re so smart! You brought Olive back from the countryside and married her to this old man in the Red Villa!” Pamela exclaimed.
Monica smiled.
“Yes, Pamela. Mom paved the way for you. Let’s wait and see!”
After hanging up, Monica looked at Patrick.
“Patrick, we must work hard for Pamela’s happiness. After all, Olive isn’t your biological daughter, and she’s not close to you. She and Elvis are together, and you gain nothing. The good thing is, the Red Villa’s ‘ghost’ husband has been exposed. How can Elvis tolerate this?”
If Elvis cast Olive out, his favored daughter, Pamela, would inherit everything.
Patrick felt elated. His happiness made Monica seem more attractive than ever.
“Monica, do whatever you need to do. I fully support you,” Patrick said happily. It was his first comment to her in days—a good sign. Monica’s face beamed with delight.
“I know, Patrick,” she replied cheerfully.
Olive was returning to the Red Villa when her phone beeped—a message from North.
“Olive, who is this old man?” North had forwarded a photo of Butler Henry.
Olive glanced at it and replied, “It’s our butler, Uncle Henry.”
North’s next message arrived: “Is he the ghost you married?”
What?
Olive knew something was wrong. She clicked on her newsfeed; the trending topic was her again.
“Olive married an old man?” “Olive’s husband was really good at hiding!” “Is Olive’s infidelity justified now? After all, he can’t satisfy her.” “Mr. Augustine is pitiful. He never imagined he’d be cuckolded by an old man.”
Olive swallowed hard, shocked that Mr. Henry was being identified as her husband.
A series of notifications arrived. She clicked and saw that she was tagged in a post by old Mrs. Samantha, who was fiercely criticizing Elvis.
“What does Elvis Augustine want? He’s rich, handsome, charming, and stupid. Why did he harass my Olive and destroy our family? This is immoral!”
The post, only ten minutes old, already had thousands of comments and shares.
“OMG! This family’s scandal is hilarious!” “Public opinion is biased. Men cheating are applauded, but women are crucified. Our society needs to improve.” “Am I the only one who wants Olive to write a book? On how to raise a terrible child?”
Olive read the comments, then checked her homepage. Her followers had jumped from eighteen million to twenty-three million, surpassing Pamela.
North messaged again: “Olive, you’re a celebrity! One post, and all the anger is directed at Mr. Augustine. But is this good? I think Mr. Augustine spoils you too much.”
Olive hadn’t made the post, but worried about Elvis’s reaction.
Back at the Red Villa, Olive gratefully grabbed Mrs. Samantha’s hands. “Grandma, you’re amazing!”
Mrs. Samantha patted Olive’s hand.
“Olive, your father and stepmother were here. I deliberately let Uncle Henry introduce himself as your husband. The stage is set. Now it’s your turn to sing.”
Confused, Olive asked, “Grandma, what do you mean?”
The old lady simply nodded. The door opened, and Elvis entered.
Olive remembered the post about him. She couldn’t face him.
Elvis changed his shoes, then walked into the living room. His sharp eyes glanced at Olive and the old lady, then settled on Mr. Henry. He sighed, unhappy.
Mr. Henry felt on edge. Elvis removed his coat, gave it to the maid, and sat. He licked his lips and said, “Uncle Henry.”
Mr. Henry’s eyelashes trembled. He looked at the old lady.
“Uncle Henry,” Elvis continued, “I remember a lemon tree in the back garden. The lemons are your reward. Eat them all tonight.”